The Ultimate Sacrifice
by Kaena
Summary: (One-shot) Imagine you have an only son... Imagine a threat that will tear you and your son apart... Now imagine that you must make a choice that will affect the world forever. Or will it?


_Time to use that little thing we call an imagination. I do not own this story idea, I am simply re-telling it. Oh, and if any of you are sensitive, like me, I recommend you keep a supply of tissues on hand._

Imagine yourself living in a small town in Kansas, USA. The world has not been at war for almost a decade. Your only family is your young, 7 year-old son. Yet, you are happy with your life, and your son adores you. You could not imagine a life without him.

One day, you and your son go to the park for a picnic. Your son runs off to play with some friends, and you meander over to some of your own friends for a friendly chat. As you are speaking, you hear a little blurb on the radio. At first, you don't think much of it, but soon, the reporter's words begin to attract your attention.

The reporter claims that in some remote part of Africa, a small village has contracted a mysterious disease. It resembles the Influenza virus, yet it has resisted all forms of treatment doctors use for cases of Influenza. Symptoms include an extremely high fever, convulsions, and other flu-like symptoms. The final phase is a comatose state, in which the patient never recovers. But as soon as the report is made, it is quickly brushed aside. You ponder this for a moment, and then decide it's not worth the trouble.

Life returns to normal for a time, until one evening, while watching some comedic television show, a news flash interrupts your program. At first, you are annoyed, but then a curiosity replaces your anger. The reporter on the television is doing a follow-up story about the mysterious disease in Africa. He is now claiming that the disease has spread to most of the major cities in Africa, and that Africa has become a quarantined continent. The surrounding countries in Europe, Britain and France, are closing their borders, just in case. No one is allowed to enter or leave Africa; and though people may leave Britain and France, no one may enter.

The disease is totally stumping every major field of the medical profession. Doctors cannot figure out the dormancy period, and the disease is resistant to every form of medication known to the medical field. Even the mighty penicillin has no effect on the disease. But doctors around the world are still racing to find an answer. The news flash ends, and your program returns, but you no longer find humor in it. You begin to worry, but right now, there is nothing you can do.

Time does not pass as quickly, or as happily, as it used to. Life seems to be strained, and time is spent worrying and wondering. You reason with yourself: "There's nothing to worry about here. They have the disease quarantined. It cannot cross either ocean. We are safe here." But doubt still flickers in the back of your mind. Still, you try to live as normally as possible, for the sake of your son.

Jump ahead, approximately one month later. You are sitting in your office, milling through piles of paperwork, when you are suddenly aware of a small commotion occurring just a few doors down. People are yelling, "If you have a radio, turn it on!" You switch on your portable radio, and tune it to the clearest news channel. What emanates from the small machine shocks you to the core of your very being. In Tennessee, two women were taken to the hospital earlier that day, with symptoms similar to that of the flu. But the illness had resisted all forms of medication. What everyone had feared, had come true. The "New Flu," had come to America.

In a matter of days, the news spread throughout the country, and people all over began to panic. They stripped store shelves of every type of medicine. People walked around, selling their own home "cures" for the new disease. The nation was thrown into chaos. Businesses shut down; schools close early, and other public places are mandatorily boarding up. The whole nation cowers in fear wondering if the disease will spread. It does. It spreads slowly, but like a raging inferno, it cannot be stopped.

But through the terror comes a ray of hope! Doctors have found a way to cure the disease. A specific blood type has been analyzed, and determined that it is strong enough to carry a cure for this disease. All citizens across the nation are urged to visit their doctor to have their blood analyzed, and hopefully matched to the cure. With this new-found hope, you pack a light lunch, and take your son to the doctor's office. Since yours is a mid-sized town, there's a bit of a crowd, and a bit of a wait ahead of you.

Finally, your turn, and that of your son's, has arrived. The doctor takes a small sample and tells you to wait outside with everyone else. You praise your son for being strong and brave as the doctor took his blood, and your son smiles happily under your praise.

You wait outside with everyone else and unpack the lunch you prepared. But before you can take a bite, a doctor in a white lab coat bursts through the door. "We've found it!" He cries. "We've found the cure!" A collective cheer rises from the crowd, and the doctor calls out a name. But with all the cheering, you had a hard time hearing it. You feel a small tug on the hem of your shirt. You look down, and your son gazes up at you with surprised and unsure eyes. "That's my name! The doctor guy called my name!"

The young doctor pushed his way through the crowd to your son's side. He turns and looks at you. "We need your son's help. Will you allow us to make some tests on him?" You nod, vaguely; and before you can blink, the doctor has ushered your son inside. You follow as far as you can, but must stop short of the laboratory doors. You wait impatiently, as unknown test are being conducted on your only son.

Some time has passed, when suddenly, a doctor stands before you. But it is not the same young man who ushered your son off earlier. This man who stands before you now, is an older gentleman. One obviously well learned in his profession. He sits next to you and hands you a form. He then begins an explanation.

"I can't express to you our gratitude at finding a match for the cure so quickly. We will take you son's blood and bond it to the anti-toxin to create a vaccine/cure for the disease." The doctor continues his rambling, but you only listen half-heartedly. You're far too busy reading the form to listen to what he's saying. Suddenly, a small portion of the form catches your eye. It's the place where the doctors should have filled in how many pints they were going to need. Strangely enough, it is blank. Unsurely, you point this out to the doctor. His face changes. It becomes grave and serious. He sighs. "We did not know the blood we needed was from a minor. Nor did we realize just how much we would need, or how young the minor was. I'm sorry, but we need to take it all."

Those dreadful words hit you like a ton of bricks. Though the doctor tells you that it will save all of humanity, your thoughts are only for your son. Your only son. The only family you have; you must now choose whether or not he will die, so that the world might live. With a violently shaking hand, you numbly sign the release form; giving them permission to kill your son. The doctor, snatching the form from your hand lest you decide to change your mind, tells you that you will have some time with your son.

You walk through those doors, forcing back the tears, and promising to be strong for your son. You see him sitting on a gurney, tubes and wires running all over the place. You are speechless as he stares up at you, eyes wide and trusting. How can you tell him what he must now do? His small voice penetrates your tumultuous thoughts. "Will it hurt? Are they going to poke me with one of those needle things?" "No," you say, shakily. "They will put you to sleep first. You won't feel anything when they poke you, because you'll be asleep." His innocent smile tears at your heart. "Well then, that won't be so bad."

The young doctor comes in at this time and asks you to leave. You take one last, long look at your only son before standing and walking away. But your son's voice calling after you stills your steps. "You'll be there, right?" he asks. "Be where, son?" "Be here! When I wake up! You'll be there when I wake up, right?" Tears spring to your eyes, but you fight them back with every fiber of your being. You turn and look one last time at your son. "Yes," you reply, brokenly. "Yes, I will be here for you, my son. I will always be here." With all your might, you turn and nearly race out of the room. And that is the last time you ever see your son... alive.

With the sacrifice of your son, the world was saved from the disease. Memorial services were held for your son all across the world, and you received many letters, expressing thanks and remorse over the loss of your son. But soon, the letters become fewer and farther between. And soon after, everyone seems to have forgotten the sacrifice that was needed to save the world. A new generation is born; a generation that did not know what it had taken to save the world. You, and the sacrifice your son made, are now forgotten.

Does this story sound familiar? It should. There was another Son who made a similar sacrifice to save the world from another dreaded disease. A disease known as Sin. But just like the son in the above story, this Son was also forgotten. I'm not trying to preach at anyone, but I wouldn't be able to hold my head up in this world if I didn't bring to light what has already come to pass. Everyone is entitled to their belief and I'm merely expressing mine through this parable-esque tale. I am a storyteller, and I'm trying to tell the greatest story ever recorded in a way people can understand. We are a generation that has forgotten this sacrifice. I strive to ensure that everyone I meet has the chance; a chance for a cure. The cure cannot be bought, only accepted. It's that easy. So then tell me...

Why have we forgotten?


End file.
